The First Step
by Pagan Ianthe
Summary: After Neville Longbottom's defection things start to change in Luna and George's friendship.


**Disclaimer:** These characters are not mine; they are the creations of JK Rowling and the property of WB, and Bloomsbury Books in the UK.  
**Author Note:** I wrote this back in 2007. I have to say that while he may seem really OOC to you I don't think that anyone is truly _that_ nice!****

**Part One**

Tucking her wand behind her ear, Luna studied her reflection in the mirror one last time before rushing down the stairs to let in the guests that she had left waiting on the doorstep for the last fifteen minutes. She was determined that tonight was going to be special, and she was sure that Neville was going to ask her to move in with him or something. He had been nervous for weeks and every once in a while he got this expression on his face that caused the butterflies in Luna's stomach to do a Pasadoble. ****

She pulled open the front door to the cottage to let in the sea of people that she had invited to the party, smiling widely when she noticed that Neville was there, his face flushed, and a small present clasped in his hands. She barely acknowledged the rest of the guests, who walked into the house and headed straight for the long table that was so laden with food it bowed slightly in the centre. As Neville walked into the hall he grabbed Luna, just a little roughly, by the arm, "I need to talk to you," he whispered urgently against her cheek as she moved in to kiss him.****

Feeling the butterflies in her stomach doing an excited samba, Luna willingly followed him out into the garden and sat down on the bench. "Here, you can sit down next to me," she patted the space next to her and smiled invitingly.****

"No, I think I should stand for this," Neville shook his head, his face suddenly pale, his eyes wide with what Luna assumed to be nerves.****

_Honestly!_ she thought as she studied him, _All this fuss because he wants me to move in with him…surely he knows I would say yes?_****

After a few moments of pacing back and forth in front of the bench, Neville stopped and stared at her intently. "I want to break up." He let out a large sigh of relief after he said it, and slumped forward a little, almost afraid to look at Luna to discern her reaction.****

Luna felt as though someone had just kicked her in the stomach and killed all the butterflies that had previously been dancing around like mad things. She looked up at Neville though eyes glazed over with unshed tears and wondered what had him looking both awkward and guilty. "What?" The question was asked quietly, as though if she asked nicely enough he would recant the statement.****

"I said I want to break up," he spoke the words slowly, still not meeting her eye.****

"Why?" Her heart breaking, Luna fought off the sudden urge she had to throw herself at him and scream; it was simply something a Lovegood didn't do. "Is there someone else?" she asked.****

Wondering why he was feeling so bad when he knew that it was for the best that he ended it with her, knowing that he didn't love her, Neville took a deep breath, "I just don't love you. You are one of my best friends, but I don't care about you like that." The war had changed him a lot, but it still hadn't afforded him the sort of tact that he needed in these situations. Awkwardness unlike anything that had felt since he was in the first year of Hogwarts swept over him, and he knelt down in front of the bench, both hands covering hers. "I'm sorry." He pressed a light kiss to her forehead and stood up again.****

Feeling more than a little bit sick, Luna curled up on the bench, bringing her knees in close to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. Desperate not to show that she was devastated, she sniffed quietly, wiped her eyes on her skirt and then looked up. "Goodbye, Neville."****

Swallowing back the anguished cry that begged to be set free, Luna watched him walk away, heading down the path towards the road leading back into Ottery St Catchpole village. In a matter of moments her whole world had crashed around her ears and she felt as though she was going to die from the painful tightening in her chest.****

~*~****

George watched from a distance as Luna struggled to pull herself back together. He had witnessed far more of the scene than he had wanted to, and though he would never admit it – even under threat of torture – pity swelled inside him. What a thing to happen on her birthday. Longbottom, the insensitive git, couldn't have waited until _after_ her birthday?****

He could hear the guests getting restless in the lounge, probably all wondering where the hostess and birthday girl was hiding the rest of the booze – they had already consumed the three bottles of white wine that had been in coolers on the table. For a few moments he pondered the wisdom in interrupting her moments of self-pity, but then realised that if he didn't someone else less tactful probably would barge in and end up upsetting her further without realising it!****

Holding the small brightly coloured paper plate with its equally bright slice of chocolate and raspberry gateau on it firmly in one clammy hand, he walked over to her and, without saying anything, sat down on the bench beside her. He put the cake down on the arm of the bench. After a few moments, when she still hadn't looked up, he awkwardly patted her – in a way that he hoped was comforting – on the shoulder. Before he had a chance to say anything, she hurled herself into his arms and buried her already tear-stained face into the curve where neck met shoulder. He had to stifle a groan of pain when one of her knees grazed against his groin, narrowly missing gelding him.****

Giving in to the almost constant desire he had to hold her, he wrapped his arms around her, burying one hand in the mass of blonde curls she had twisted into a loose, messy chignon at the nape of her neck and holding her face against his chest. He listened to her sobs as they slowly eased and couldn't hold back the small smile as her breathing slowed and she nuzzled against his tear-soaked chest as she drifted into a tear-exhausted slumber.****

Resisting the urge to pick her up and carry her through the house to her bedroom whilst the house was packed with guests, he enjoyed the sensation of her sleeping for almost 20-minutes before gently shaking her shoulder in an attempt to wake her up. "Luna…you can't sleep now." He whispered the words against her hair, inhaling the scent of her camomile and lemon shampoo and choking back the sudden urge he had to moan. The scent reminded him of the small candle he often used in his bedroom when he was thinking about the girl he knew he shouldn't be fantasising about.****

"I should have hexed him," she mumbled as she drifted awake from the far-too-brief nap she'd just had.****

Holding back a chuckle at this statement, George cupped her cheek and forced her to look at him. "Why should you have hexed poor Neville? What did he do that was so awful?"****

"He told me he didn't love me," she whispered the words as though she was afraid if she said them any louder they would be the truth. Reluctantly she opened her eyes and stared at the Weasley twin who always seemed to rescue her. "He told me he didn't love me and that he just wanted to be friends."****

Ahh, now everything made sense to him. George had wondered how long it would take for Neville to realise that he was only dating Luna because he didn't want to feel left out of the gang. Ron had Hermione, Harry had Ginny and for most of Neville's sixth year Luna and Neville had been the odd ones out, the ones that had been on the periphery of a very strong bond of friendship, always looking in and never getting involved. "Better now than if you had moved in together, or gotten married, right?" Ever the pragmatist, although most would find that quite a shocking revelation, George half-smiled at her and watched as she seemed to think his statement through. He could almost see the cogs in her brain working double-time.****

"I suppose. I just thought…" she closed her eyes and tears rolled from her eyelashes down her pale cheeks. "I thought he loved me."****

_Yeah well…he couldn't have you anyway…_ George glared as his thoughts took a dark turn. He had fought against his desire for Ginny's best friend since she was 14 years old, and as ridiculous as it had been then, it had been even more so when he had been jealous of cauldron exploder extraordinaire Neville Longbottom! Every time he had seen the two together he had been forced to clench his fists and ignore that jealousy was eating him up inside. He wanted Luna Lovegood to notice him, not that prat Longbottom, and until today he had believed that they would live _happily ever after_ even if it were totally fake on Longbottom's part.****

"Are you all right?" Luna studied George Weasley for a few seconds and noticed that his eyes had darkened and his face was slightly flushed, as though he was angry about something. "Did I say something wrong?" She frowned, her brow wrinkling, and tried to figure out what she could have possibly said that would make him look as though someone had stolen his favourite broom out from under his nose or something.****

"Huh?" he shook his head to clear the cobwebs, aware that Luna had been talking to him. "Sorry, I missed that."****

"I asked if you were all right. You looked like you were going to have a fit of apoplexy or something." She cupped his cheek in her hand and forced him to look at her. "You are very warm," she mumbled as he turned his face and pressed a soft kiss into her palm, sending a shiver of electric shocks up her arm. With a breathless gasp, she pulled away as though he had bitten her when she felt the tip of his tongue licking a path along her mound of Venus, her large eyes wide and startled at the unexpected caress.****

Leaning back against the bench, he studied Luna's expression as it changed from surprise to speculation, her eyes narrowed as she focused on him intently.****

"Do you want to sleep with me?" She spoke so quietly that George had to strain to hear her. Flushing when he realised what she had asked, he took a deep breath and curved his large hands around her hips before removing her from his lap, so as to distance himself from the temptation that was licking at his decreasing conscience.****

"I don't think that's a good idea, Luna." He muttered, as he shuffled a little further away from her on the bench, stopping only when he felt one of the arms digging into his back.****

Seeing her bottom lip begin to tremble, and a teardrop leak from the corner of one eye, guilt encompassed him. He knew that he would never be able to look himself in the mirror again should he actually take advantage of the offer she was making while she was so vulnerable. "Ask me that again in a few months?" he couldn't help but sound hopeful that she would actually ask him again, but perhaps he had blown his chances by turning her down right now!****

With a tiny smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, Luna tilted her head to one side and studied this brother of Ginny's that until that moment had only barely registered on her this is a man radar – she had been far too focused on Neville! ****

"Maybe I will." ****

She stood up from the bench and set about straightening herself up, with a few flicks of her wand her make-up was again subtle and un-smudged. Her silver-grey eyes framed with sooty lashes, her lips coated in a slick of sparkling clear gloss accentuating her – to his eyes at least – delectable and sensuous pout.****

With a grin he noticed that while she had cleaned up her face she had missed something. Leaning forward, pressing a light kiss to her earlobe, he swept his wand over her hair. She pulled back, confusion clear on her face, "Was something wrong with my hair? I thought it looked acceptable in the mirror…" She patted her chignon nervously, wondering if perhaps she had made yet another of her rather bizarre faux pas, but not quite sure what it could have been.****

His grin now even wider, George moved closer, his tongue brushing against the whorl of her ear as he muffled laughter, "You had cake in your hair…"****

"Oh…" she had no idea what to say to that, as unexpected a statement as it was.****

"Yes, and it's delicious." Before she had a chance to say anything in response his mouth covered hers and his tongue was parting her lips, sharing the sharp tangy flavour of the raspberries and the bittersweet of the dark chocolate.****

**Part Two** \- _Five months later_

Oh Merlin, she's beautiful, George thought as Luna walked down the aisle in front of his sister, her back straight, the shimmering blue-silver gown clinging to her slender frame. He tugged at his collar and wished, not for the first time, that the formal, almost Muggle in style, jacket he was wearing were a little bit longer, if only to hide his reaction to the vision walking past him.

Over the last few months, since she had offered herself to him, he had seen her a few times, but he had decided to give her space. It was apparent that she was still getting over her break up with Neville – or at least that is how he chose to interpret the sometimes wistful expression she got on her face when she thought no one was looking.

As she walked down the aisle, following in the wake of the miniature angel that was Bill and Fleur's 3-year old daughter Angelique who was scattering dark, almost blood-red, rose petals, he found himself unable to look away from her. He couldn't help but notice the way that the filtered sunlight gave her blonde hair a reddish hue, the slight flush on her cheeks, the curve of hip and waist. He bit back a groan and closed his eyes. _Stop looking…stop looking…_ he kept on telling himself, although the mantra appeared to be doing no good at all.

~*~

Standing beside the altar as she watched Ginny nervously utter her vows, the sound of cameras clicking almost completely drowned her quietly spoken words, Luna wondered if she was ever going to be doing this. She had only reluctantly agreed to be the Maid of Honour after Ginny had virtually bribed her with the classic You're my best friend, if you don't do it then I'll never forgive you speech that only moments before she had tried on a rather obviously pregnant and very uncomfortably bloated Hermione. Having agreed, she had managed to persuade Ginny that the lavender dress that had initially been selected would be less than flattering on her very pale, tall and slender frame. Finally the two friends had agreed on the silver-blue, ankle-length, strappy number she was now wearing, a dress that Luna liked to think would get more than just the one outing.

She had noticed the twins in their black Muggle-style morning suits as she walked down the aisle behind Angelique, and for a moment her gaze had been totally focused on George. She knew that it was him rather than his brother because of the cluster of freckles on the back of the hand that was nervously trying to loosen the burgundy and gold – Gryffindor colours of course – tie around his neck.

Taking a deep breath she accepted the bouquet of cream-coloured roses from Ginny and stepped back from the dais where Professor McGonagall was giving a brief, beautiful speech on the sanctity of marriage. The elderly woman who now had to use a cane all the time then shared her memories of the two strong, brave characters who were pledging their troth before the gathered congregation of friends, family, and curious press photographers.

Neville was somewhere in the back, on the groom's side of the Blessed Place; he was holding hands with some petite brunette who was sort of familiar. It was very obvious that she was in the family way, her stomach clearly protruding and distorting the lines of the elegant taupe gown she was wearing. Luna wanted to feel angry, but all she felt was disappointed that he hadn't felt he could confide in her that he was in love with someone else. The revelation that he didn't love her had stunned her and affected her confidence more than she was willing to admit.

~*~

By the time Luna arrived at the reception – which was being held in a far corner of the Burrow's extended property, the party was in full swing. Fred was dancing far too closely to be decent to Angelina and in the centre of the makeshift dancefloor, the happy newlyweds were wrapped around each other, totally unaware of anything but themselves. With a sigh she slumped down on a bench under the tall oak tree she had always climbed when she was little, watching as the dancefloor became a little more crowded following the start of a newer, faster song. She was so lost in watching everything that she didn't even notice when George sat down next to her. His tie was loose around his neck, the top two buttons of his dress-shirt undone (showing the start of a light trail of red gold chest hair), his jacket slung casually over one thigh.

"So why aren't you dancing?" he leaned in and breathed the question against the back of her neck immediately causing her to jerk back nervously, narrowly missing giving him a spectacular black eye.

Turning her head she smiled at him in that way that always made his knees turn to something resembling jelly (not that he would ever admit it). "No one asked me."

Feeling like a total twat, he stood up – his jacket falling neglected to the ground – put his hand out and pulled her to her feet. "Well now they are. Will you dance with me?"

Nodding her head, Luna started a slow walk to the dancefloor, only to be pulled up short when he made no move to leave their little hideaway behind the overgrown rosebushes, underneath the old oak tree.

**Part Three**

Having no idea where he was about to appear, George clasped his wand tightly in his hand, and kept his eyes open, although the swirling effect always caused by apparation had a tendency to make him sick. He was more than a little surprised when he found himself in a large bedroom. Plain, clean white walls were punctuated with black and white Wizarding and Muggle photographs framed in the same dark wood that made up the large four-poster bed decorated with pale lilac voile curtains and flickering silver lights. Two large glass doors opened out onto a garden illuminated with fireflies, the almost overpowering scent of lilacs and lavender wafted into the room. Standing in the doorway, enjoying the late evening breeze, George could just make out a white floaty shape at the far end of the garden, moving gracefully through the tall shaded trees, her pale hair reflecting the bright light of the moon.****

He wanted to follow her, but he could see that this was almost a ritual to her; he could see that from the various pictures of a much younger Luna running through the same – albeit smaller – trees with a woman as dark as Luna was fair.****

As quietly as he could, George walked out into the garden, avoiding the uneven cobbles of the patio just outside the double doors, and sat down on the bench where he had comforted her all those months ago – had it really been only five months? So much had changed in such a short time.****

Luna had heard the distinctive 'pop' of apparition as George had arrived in her bedroom, but she had chosen to ignore it. She had to make sure that the faeries in the garden were placated, and so she had continued with the ritual that her mother had taught her when she had learned how to walk.****

Watching as Luna moved gracefully from beneath one tree to another, George desperately tried to control his libido, which was currently moving at warp speed. This wasn't helped in the least by the suggestive images in his head; images of Luna's hair brushing sensuously against her naked back, her large eyes closed, her head tipped back as she rode him on her large four poster bed. The images wouldn't leave him alone even as he tried to concentrate on her unique dance, that harked back to the 'old days', at the bottom of the large, fragrant, overgrown garden.****

The whisper of a girlish giggle echoed in his head as he focused all his attentions on watching the woman he had grown to need. "You want her…" The girlish voice taunted; her giggle almost too high-pitched, reminiscent of the screaming Gryffindor Quidditch groupies who had so often followed him and Fred to the common room after a match. "Ooh, you've got big man parts," she twittered as George felt the sensation of wispy wings brush against his leg. "Luna Love will like that…"****

Blushing, and trying desperately to ignore the effect her words had had on him – the image of Luna enjoying him was becoming harder and harder to push to the back of his mind. George closed his eyes and drank in the scent of the wild flowers that bloomed in the dark, cool night.****

Beneath the sounds of the night George was able to make out the sound of make high-pitched girlish voices as they conversed at the edge of the wood, they all sounded very tiny, their voices quiet but still easily heard in the stillness. ****

"Oooh, you're a lucky girl, Luna Love…" he heard the tiny voice of the creature that had come to examine him only moments earlier. Unfortunately he was unable to hear her response, her voice was far too low, hidden beneath the flutter of wings and the breeze that had suddenly appeared from nowhere.****

Walking out of the woods, her appearance filtered through a mystic fog, her pale cheeks flushed and frosted with a delicate dusting of faery dust, Luna looked like a wood nymph. The full skirt of her white shift dress floated around her and she looked as though she was walking on air. Swallowing nervously, George stood up and walked to the edge of the patio, afraid that the spell would be broken if he stepped onto the grass.****

Feeling invigorated, though a little embarrassed at the details Pippa Mae had chosen to share with her about George and his 'endowments', Luna walked across the lawn and stood at the edge of the grass, her hands at her sides, her hair in a tangle of curls around her face. She lifted her face and captured George's mouth in a kiss that spoke more than any words. Her tongue slipped between his lips, tasting the lingering flavour of aged whisky and acidic but sweet tomatoes.****

Groaning at the sudden pleasure of her lips on his, George moved to touch her, his fingers brushing briefly over her bare arms before the heat of her mouth, the sensation of her tongue stroking against his, savouring him, overwhelmed him. He couldn't recall ever having felt this way about a kiss before, and with a gasp he pulled away, taking in a deep, shuddering breath.****

Staring at him through glazed eyes, Luna reached for his hands and tugged him in the direction of the open glass doors leading to her bedroom. ****

In all the years that she had done this ritual she could never recall it having such an effect on her. She felt heat swelling between her legs and her breasts felt tight, as though nothing but his touch on her skin would satisfy her. ****

Standing beside the sumptuous four poster bed that dominated her bedroom, Luna watched as George loosened his already loose collar with a single finger and swallowed nervously. She felt a little relieved that he was just as unsure of what was happening between them as she was. She had intended only to tease him a little; dance with him, kiss him, learn him, but, by following her, and watching her ritual dance in the circle at the bottom of the garden, he had shown her that he wanted more, that she wanted more.****

Almost in a daze, George reached for the thin spaghetti straps of her dress and pushed them down her arms, watching as the dress pooled at her waist, revealing her pert, dusky tipped, breasts to his eyes.****

With a flush that spread from her breasts, along the line of her slender throat, to her cheeks, Luna had to fight the urge to cover herself, aware that she wasn't as well-endowed or curvy as some of the girls that George had been with in the past. Insecurity driving her, she reached for a throw, pulled it off the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders. "No…don't!" George managed to mutter; his hands already tugging the cover from her limp fingers and watching as it dropped to the floor, a puddle of silver-white cashmere that was soon joined by the thin white gown, leaving her standing completely naked in front of him.****

Her nipples tightening further under his hot gaze, Luna watched, fascinated, as George smoothed one hand down his chest and over the rather prominent bulge in his trousers, rubbing the heel of his hand against almost hypnotically. She studied his face, the way that his jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, the darkening of his eyes until the ring of hazel around his black pupils appeared almost golden; and she shuddered.****

George couldn't take his eyes off Luna as she observed him. He continued to stroke himself through his trousers, a half-grin on his lips when he noticed the way that her eyes roamed over his body before focusing intently on the mesmerizing movements of his hands. A feeling of smug satisfaction roaring through him when he realised that her hands were shaking just as much as his were. ****

Taking a deep breath for courage, and squeezing her eyes tightly closed for a second, Luna took a step forward and placed her shaking hands on George's chest, feeling the muscles flex beneath his shirt. "Dance with me," she whispered against the curve of his neck, enjoying the feeling of his groan against her palms.****

A slow sensual pulsing beat began to echo around the room, mimicking the sound of their mingled breathing as he rested his hands on her hips, one hand brushing over the curve of her arse, as she moved closer to him. Her hands on his chest, the tap of her fingers imitating the rapid beat of his heart, she rested her head on his shoulder and inhaled the scent of him.****

Luna's perfume was intoxicating. Burying his face in her hair as her warm naked body moved against his, George breathed in and enjoyed that unique Luna smell. Not for the first time, he wondered what it was about her exactly that had been the source of far too many of his over-heated erotic dreams over the last five months. ****

Curving her left leg around George's left thigh as they danced together, Luna closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of the rough material of his trousers as it rubbed against her sensitised skin, but more than anything she wanted to feel his skin against hers. She moved her hands down between their bodies and, started to undo the button fly of his elegant tuxedo trousers.****

Gulping back a nervous, and very un-masculine, squeak as Luna pushed aside the flaps of his fly and slipped her hands into his very patriotic red, white and blue boxer shorts and curled her fingers around his cock, sending a surge of awareness through his body. ****

"Luna." George groaned as Luna started to stroke him. She didn't take her eyes off her task, on the movement of her hand up and down on his erection. His head dropping back against the wall, George cupped the twin globes of her curvaceous derrière and pulled her tightly against him, trapping her hands between their two bodies.****

Struggling for a moment, feeling anything but confident and glamorous as she tried to free her hands, Luna directed her helpless gaze on George's face, desperately trying to look and act far more experienced than she actually was; slipping her hands from between their bodies, and lightly brushing her fingers along the length of his throbbing erection before sliding her hands up his chest. She smiled as the sound of buttons popping off his shirt and dropping to the floor broke the tension-filled silence that had started to build in the room.****

A harsh gasp of breath leaving his parted lips as Luna's breasts rubbed against his chest, George lifted her until she was forced to twine her legs around his hips. "I want you," he muttered against her neck before sucking on the sensitised skin behind her ear, his teeth nipping at it, his tongue soothing it. Luna knew that she would have a red/purple mark on her neck the following day but she couldn't bring herself to care, it would be a reminder that tonight had happened, that it wasn't a trick conjured up by her, sometimes overactive, imagination.****

Turning them both around and pushing Luna's back up against the wall, George set about devouring her, he pressed frantic, desire driven, kisses on her closed eyes, across her cheeks and finally he took her lips in a kiss that stole her breath. Desperate to get even closer, Luna used her bare feet to push his trousers down his legs and onto the floor, stuck covering his smart and shiny black shoes.****

Laughing, feeling exhilarated, George released Luna's legs and she dropped gracefully to the floor, staggering only a little when he let go of her and she tried to clear her head of the desire-befuddled thoughts that filled it.****

With a self-effacing grin George bent down and untied his shoelaces, kicked his shoes off, stepped out of his trousers, and then discarded his boxer shorts. He then joined Luna, standing beside the bed, staring down at the clean, lavender-scented, soft covers.****

After only a moment of hesitation, George sat down on the edge of the bed and reached up, clasped his hands loosely around her slender wrists and tugged her into his lap, groaning as he felt her moist heat rubbing against his bare thighs.****

Luna was so aware of George that she was almost writhing in anticipation of what she knew was about to happen with him. For weeks, maybe months, she had been fantasising about being with him like this, and now it was finally happening she was refusing to let the nerves that were causing her hands to shake almost uncontrollably to affect what was happening. She curled her hands around George's shoulders and leaned down to kiss him, her tongue brushing over his lips before seeking entrance. ****

The moment her tongue rubbed against his, battling for dominion in his mouth, she raised herself up on her knees and then sank down onto him, her eyes closing for a brief moment as she acknowledged the pain caused when he pushed through her hymen.****

George couldn't think, the heat of her curled around his cock, the tightness that squeezed him as she lifted herself away from him and then surged downwards with a quiet carnal moan. He curved his left hand around her hips, guiding her frantic movements. Desperate to give her the kind of pleasure that her touch were giving him, he reached between their bodies and stroked his fingers through her dark golden curls, seeking, and quickly finding her distended, throbbing clit, manipulating it until she was writhing over him, her movements uncontrolled and desperate.****

With a cry Luna surged above him, her eyes closed, her long hair brushing against his thighs as she arched her back and shuddered to a climax. The sight of the pleasure on her face, and the sensation of her pussy tightening around him, spasming as she continued to rock against him erratically, pushed George over the edge. With a roar that would do a Gryffindor lion proud, George rolled Luna onto her back, and thrust into her madly until all he could feel was Luna. He was totally unaware of his surroundings; of the high-pitched faery squeals coming from the garden, of the scent of lavender, of the cotton sheets he had grasped between his fingers. ****

Luna dug her fingernails into his shoulders, leaving crescent-shaped marks in the muscular flesh as she tugged him tightly to her, breathing harshly against the curve of his neck. It was an amazing sensation, the feeling of George when he thrust into her for the last time, shuddering as he emptied himself inside her.****

Breathless, George fell to Luna's side. He wrapped his arms around her, tugged another of her many throws around their quickly cooling bodies and then watched her as she drifted into sleep, a relaxed, contented expression on her face.****

Smiling, he smoothed his fingers down Luna's cheeks, brushed a gentle kiss across her forehead and then, having settled her even tighter against him, he allowed himself the luxury of falling asleep.****

In the morning he knew that there would be questions, that they would have to talk, but for right now the future wasn't important, what mattered was that they finally had both taken that first step.


End file.
